The Secret World of Eric Weiss
by Fair Cate
Summary: We see the smile and the face he gives to the world. But what is going on in his life and in his mind? Weiss POV - Minor Lives Series Part 1


**A/N:** This is something which has been sitting in my head for a while. I was always curious about Weiss as a character. I mean, he is there for everyone else, knows what is going on in their lives and is always trying to cheer them up. but what really goes on inside his head!  
I will update Distance tomorrow (hopefully...)

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the characters or storylines  
**Setting**: S3  
**Summary**: What goes on behind the smile? A look at a night in the life of Eric Weiss

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**The secret world of Eric Weiss**

Finally the day is over and I leave. Sometimes I feel suffocated sitting at my desk. Although I might joke about it, my favorite place is in the field, my adrenaline pumping and my mind buzzing. Out there, it all feels effortless and you just let your instincts take over. Here, everything requires thought and action.

I gently steer my car out of the car park and onto the main road. I always loved driving. When I was sixteen I saved for months and bought my first car. Every night I would take it out and just go cruising through the streets. Sometimes I would bring a friend along but most of the time, the only company I needed was the groan of the car engine as it drifted along.

I always avoided being at home too much when I was a kid. My mom was always tired, quick to pick at anything I did wrong. There was constant tension between us and it was just easier to spend my time playing sport or out in my car. Years have passed. She has grown softer and I can now understand why she was always so bitter and tired. But my car was my savior back then. And now it is simply a way to get from A to B.

I turn into my old neighborhood and drive through the familiar streets. These were the streets where I grew up and every corner is familiar. I drive past my old high school, the sprinklers on in the football grounds. I used to spend so much time there, trying to improve my game. I was one of the best players on the squad, but an injury in my senior year meant I was benched when scholarship selectors came past. After that, I just lost the passion and without passion, it just isn't the same.

My childhood home hasn't changed since the day we moved in. I was four and the home seemed scary to me. The garden was slightly over grown and the trees outside cast shadows through my bedroom window. But my mother is now retired and spends plenty of time outside with my sister, Melanie, looking after the garden. The windows shine and the air smells of freshly cut grass. This is my home.

I try to quietly walk up the steps but I can't trick Bouncer who comes... well... bouncing out the door towards me. Mom bought Bouncer after our old dog Tricksy died about seven years ago. I had already moved out of home, but Melanie missed the company so Mom got Bouncer. When you tell anyone you have a dog, they always want to know what breed it is. Truth be told, I have absolutely no idea what breed Bouncer is. He is one of those dogs where there are so many breeds mixed in, any distinctive features have been lost. But to Mel, he is the most beautiful dog around.

Bouncer tries to jump on me, but conscious of my suit, I keep him down.

"Hello?" I hear my mother calling from the kitchen

"It's me Mom"

"Eric! Come on in!"

I push open the unlocked screen door and let Bouncer and myself into the warmth of my house. I can smell that I am just in time for dinner so I head to the kitchen.

"Hey Mom" I say, placing a kiss on her cheek.

She beams back at me. Every time I see her, she looks older than the time before. She has had a long life and all the extra hardships have added lines around her eyes. I know that despite our conflict when I was a teenager, she is proud of me. I went to college, graduated and now I work for the State Department. Or so she thinks.

"Hello. Dinner is almost ready. Could you go and get Melanie?"

Every Thursday I have dinner at with my mother and sister, except on the nights when I am on 'business trips'. Melanie looks forward to it every week and every week I come just for her.

I knock on her bedroom door.

"Come in"

I gently push open the wooden door. The setting sun has turned the room pink, almost matching the pink bedspread. Childhood toys scatter the floor and the desk in the corner is covered with crayons and paper.

"Eric!" Melanie exclaims as she rushes over and embraces me tightly.

Melanie is thirty. She was diagnosed with Downs Syndrome when she was three and I was eight. I still remember sitting in the doctor's office with her, waiting while Mom talked to the doctor. She came out, her eyes read the remaining trails that tears leave on your face. She didn't say a word, but simply took our hands and lead us to the car. That night I woke to find her standing in Mel's doorway, watching her sleep.

She will always be my baby sister. The other kids used to tease me about Mel when I was younger and I used to ignore her, ashamed of her. But we grow up, mature and see the beauty and worth in everything. My sister is amazing, achieving more than we ever could have imagined.

While Mel is thirty, she has the mental capacity of someone aged between four and seven. She is easily amused, but requires constant supervision. Mom had to stop working in order to take care of her and when it became too much, my dad left.

"Hey Smelly Melly! How are you?"

"Great! How are you?"

"I am great too. Mom says dinner is ready"

""Come on!" Mel exclaimed, tugging me out the door.

Mom looked up, a smile on her face as we came into the kitchen. She handed out our plates of spaghetti and we all sat down to eat.

"Guess what Eric?"

"What?"

"Me and Lucy, we went out today. We went to the shops and then had pizza for lunch!"

Lucy was a care worker from the Down's Association who takes Mel out to give Mom a break. Mel loves Lucy as if she is a member of the family and she looks forward to their outings almost as much as she looks forward to me coming over for dinner. Almost.

"That's great Mel! What type of pizza did you have?"

"Ham and cheese"

"No pepperoni?" I tease

Mel scrunches up her nose and Mom laughs.

After dinner, Mel pulls me upstairs and we sit drawing at her small desk while she chats away. I honestly have no idea what she is talking about – she tends to switch between topics at the drop of a hat – but I sit and smile, making all the right sounds... I think.

When I leave, they walk me out to my car. I take the crudely drawn pictures from Mel and I kiss them both goodbye before driving back towards my apartment.

It is now dark as I cruise through the LA streets and the streets are still full of cars. That is the thing I love about living here – the city never seems to die. There are always places people need to be and everything seems so alive. It is in the darkness that doubts grow. That's what Sydney always says to me. She reckons that's why she likes having me around so much – I brighten up the room. I don't just stay bright for her though.

I stop by Sydney's apartment, just to check in as I usually do. I find her reading over debrief papers with a glass of wine. I stay for a few minutes, asking if she wants to go out, which she politely refuses.

"Not after last time"

"What do you mean last time"

"Eric, I practically had to carry you home"

"Excuse me, Miss Bristow, but I think it was I that carried you"

Sydney laughed. "You didn't carry me!"

"Yes I did. You were complaining about your feet the whole way home and I had to help you hobble three blocks"

"I still can't believe we didn't catch a cab"

"You wanted to save money!"

"Yeah well... it was fun though"

I beam at her. "Yeah"

I head for a shower as soon as I get home, letting the water wash all the city dirt away. I slowly clamber into bed and allow my head to sink into the pillow. It is sometimes hard making everyone around me laugh. I don't think I even realize how emotionally draining some of nights are. I am the only people go to for advice, the one who makes everyone laugh. But there is no one for me to talk to, no one to make me laugh.

But I'm alright. I'm always alright.

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Please review! I've never written anything from his POV - I need the feedback.


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